Say What You Need To Say

Last night at 2:30am...

I can't sleep. Admittedly, it's not like I've tried very hard, but I can feel it inside, that my body doesn't want to sleep yet. I honestly don't know what it wants to do right now, well, maybe I have a slight idea, but sleep isn't it. There's too much going on in my head. And when it's your head that's awake, not even warm milk can help.

I want to talk to my best friends, but it's almost 2:30am now and I'm really missing the days when I lived with Tanya and I could crawl into her room at nights when I couldn't sleep. She'd stay up with me and we'd talk until the morning light. I tried to start reading a new book to relax, get my mind on something else, but I didn't make it past the intro.

I'm trying to remember that I have to get up early because I promised my family that I'd make breakfast for everyone tomorrow morning. And I'm learning more and more that it is very, very important to keep the promises you make.

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I'm feeling vaguely unsettled. Not sure what's eating me either. Well, I suppose that's not entirely true. I've always been fairly intuitive, but knowing what's bugging me and not knowing what to do about it isn't exaclty as helpful as those knowing-is-half-the-battle folks say.

My colposcopy/biopsy has been on my mind since Wednesday because my lady-part-innards are still recovering. I'll probably be on eggshells until late January when I find out results because this is the last test that I'm going to do. After this, it's "treatment" - if I need it, which I hopefully won't. Talk about ringing in the new year...

And then there's matters of the heart. Oh, it's true (again - not that it ever stops), I'm suffering from something over here, even if it is just mild naivete. It seems that I am still master of the artless simplicity of unrequited love after all these years. And I thought it was something I was going to outgrow, like puberty or an old t-shirt. If only.

I haven't slept very much the last couple of nights - I've been up late reading things that lead to remembering things I purposely have not thought about in a long time. Perhaps it was due to a deep curiosity, or just temporary insanity, but I actually spent my first waking hours on Saturday morning reading through the journal I kept when The Badness happened four years ago. I wanted to see how I got better, how I had gotten over it, if there were any techniques I used, or if there was a shift in paradigm after a while. To a bit of surprise, there was nothing concrete in there except total and utter soul-emptying sadness. My god, it was draining to read through that stuff (note to self: do not do that again). I don't know what I was thinking, that there'd be a 12 step program I went through, that there would be one entry in which everything changed and I was happy again? I had to shake my head at myself afterwards. Oh, the price I paid for my curiosity.

This is so one of those times when I feel like I have a lot to say, but have no way of saying it. Dammit, language! How limited you are.
10:36 pm